


Oh, to be trapped with you

by Lilibet



Series: October 2020 prompts [30]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, M/M, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Young Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27287605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/pseuds/Lilibet
Summary: “It won’t open.”“What do you mean it won’t open?”“I mean it won’t open! It’s locked.”Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are idiots. Anakin intervenes.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: October 2020 prompts [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949062
Comments: 24
Kudos: 158





	Oh, to be trapped with you

**Author's Note:**

> For the angstober day 30 prompt "trapped".

“It won’t open.”

“What do you mean it won’t open?”

“I _mean_ it won’t open! It’s locked.”

Qui-Gon pushes Obi-Wan aside. “It can’t be locked; we’ve only been in here two seconds!” He tries the door. It doesn’t budge.

Qui-Gon turns to Obi-Wan and even though it’s pitch black he can practically _feel_ the arched eyebrow being directed at him in full force.

“See? Locked.”

“Yes, well...,” Qui-Gon sighs and rubs his forehead. “How do you suppose we get out of here?”

“Well you’re the distinguished Jedi Master, why don’t you figure it out.” Obi-Wan says dryly.

Qui-Gon huffs despite the slight. Obi-Wan’s sarcasm has always been one of his favourite things, even when directed at him. He tries to open the lock with the force, but it remains stubbornly unresponsive.

“I don’t think it’s opening any time soon. Let’s hope someone comes looking for us.”

He feels the arched eyebrow again. “In a supply closet?”

“Stranger things have happened.”

Obi-Wan chuckles. “Yes, especially when they involve you.” He sits down against the far wall of the cupboard. “I blame Anakin.”

Qui-Gon barks out a laugh and joins Obi-Wan on the floor. “And why do you say that?”

“Well, he’s _your_ apprentice!”

“So were you, once upon a time. Although, I don’t quite remember you having a proclivity for locking Jedi in closets.”

Obi-Wan shoves Qui-Gon with his shoulder and when he looks over, he can just about make out the wistful smile on Obi-Wan’s lips.

“I still blame Anakin,” Obi-Wan mutters.

Qui-Gon smiles and continues to watch Obi-Wan as his eyes get used to the darkness. His head is leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, and elbows resting on his bent knees. Locks of hair fall elegantly over his forehead, more unkempt than Obi-Wan usually likes, and Qui-Gon thinks he looks tired. He’s barely had any time in temple recently, the council sending him on near back-to-back missions, and Qui-Gon’s heart clenches with how keenly he misses Obi-Wan’s company.

He opens his end of his training bond with Anakin. _Anakin? Is this your doing?_

It’s takes a few seconds for a response. _Is what my doing, master?_

He sounds utterly innocent, but Qui-Gon can feel a sense of satisfaction radiating back down along with the message; Anakin hasn’t quite mastered the art of fully shielding yet.

Qui-Gon smiles to himself despite it. _I think you know exactly what. Come let us out, Anakin._

His last words are firmer, and he can feel Anakin waver with indecision before standing firm.

_But you miss him!_

Qui-Gon frowns. _What does that have to do with anything?_

Frustration flows freely down the bond now, and Qui-Gon makes a note to remind Anakin to work more on shielding his stronger emotions.

_You’re miserable when he’s not in temple! And even when he is, you refuse to go see him. So now, you_ have _to spend time together._

Anakin says the last few words with such surety, so certain that this is the best solution, it makes Qui-Gon actually quite proud of him. Despite the fact that he’s locked in a tiny cupboard in the dark with Obi-Wan.

_And when were you planning on letting us out?_

_When you tell him you love him._

Qui-Gon’s eyes grow wide with shock and he chokes on nothing, sending himself into a coughing fit. Obi-Wan looks at him in concern, opening his mouth to say something, but Qui-Gon just waves him off. As the tickle in his throat dies down, he feels smugness flow down the bond before it abruptly shuts off as Anakin metaphorically shuts the door in his face. The shielding is so complete, so effective, it renders Qui-Gon speechless. Maybe he doesn’t need to remind Anakin to work on his shielding after all...

He debates not telling Obi-Wan, not wanting to broach the topic Anakin has so unceremoniously brought to the forefront of his mind. He’d thought he’d been hiding it well, but damn the boy can be perceptive when he wants to be.

“It was Anakin,” Qui-Gon sighs.

Obi-Wan turns to him in triumphant glee. “Aha! See? What did I tell you,” Qui-Gon just hums in response. “Did he reveal exactly _why_ he suddenly decided to lock us in a cupboard together?”

Qui-Gon opens his mouth but the words don’t come. It’s not that he doesn’t want Obi-Wan to know he misses him, it’s just that he doesn’t want him to feel guilty for doing his duty or feel obligated to come and see Qui-Gon when he’s in temple.

Anakin was right when he said he refuses to go see Obi-Wan when he’s in temple, but it’s only because he doesn’t wish to intrude on his downtime. Obi-Wan barely gets any time to himself these days and Qui-Gon doesn’t want to monopolise what he manages to scrounge up for himself.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Who knows?” He can hear the lie in his voice and immediately knows Obi-Wan won’t miss it.

“Qui-Gon. I’ve known you many years, and in those years, I’ve seen you lie to a great many people. But honestly, that had to be the worst lie I think I’ve ever heard you tell.”

Qui-Gon shoots him an indignant look but upon seeing the playful grin on Obi-Wan’s face, concedes the point. It’s true after all, he supposes.

“Okay, fine. He...” Qui-Gon pauses, still wary about broaching the subject, but ultimately decides that Obi-Wan deserves to know. “He says I miss you,”

Obi-Wan frowns and Qui-Gon wants to rub the adorable line that appears between his eyebrows. “What?”

Qui-Gon sighs. He’s going to kill Anakin. “Ever since your knighting, I’ve barely seen you for more than a few hours at a time. The council are sending you on so many missions with barely any breaks in between, and I worry for you Obi-Wan. I know you, and I know you want to prove yourself. I’d never ask you to shirk your duty just because your silly old master misses you, but... I do.” Qui-Gon laughs deprecatingly to himself. “Anakin says I’m miserable when you’re not here, and honestly? He’s probably right.”

He looks down at his hands in his lap and picks at his nails, feeling oddly lighter for having said it all, but apprehensive as he waits for Obi-Wan’s reaction. The silence grows until it’s deafening, tension rising in the small room until it feels like it’s about to snap. Qui-Gon’s so deep in his head that he nearly misses Obi-Wan’s murmured words.

“You’re not silly,”

He chances a glance over to Obi-Wan and finds him frowning at his hands resting on his knees. He nudges Obi-Wan’s shoulder playfully with his own. “I’m sure your padawan self would disagree.”

The corner of Obi-Wan’s mouth ticks up, and Qui-Gon takes it as a win. “Probably,” Obi-Wan turns to him, and his eyes are intense with some unnamed emotion upon Qui-Gon’s face. “But I’m not your padawan anymore.”

The words feel weighted with meaning and Qui-Gon swallows against the sudden heavy tension between them. “No,” He murmurs, “You’re not.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes flick down to his lips as he parts them to take a breath. When his eyes return to his, there’s a question in them. Qui-Gon has never felt a shatterpoint, but right now he thinks he understands what they must feel like.

If he looks away, the moment shatters and they go back to how they have always been; Qui-Gon watching as Obi-Wan damn near works himself to death and doing nothing about it as he longs silently from the sidelines. Or, he could jump off the metaphorical cliff edge in front of him and close the distance between them. There’s no telling what would come of that action, but Qui-Gon supposes that’s the point.

Such a small action for such a huge unknown.

Well, he’s always been one for living in the moment.

Obi-Wan’s lips are soft when they meet, and they open up to him immediately. It quickly turns the kiss from a chaste exploratory one to a deeper, open-mouthed one and the sound Obi-Wan makes reverberates through Qui-Gon and into his bones. Obi-Wan’s hand tangles into his hair to pull him closer, and Qui-Gon angles Obi-Wan’s jaw with his fingers to find the right angle.

The room feels like it’s on fire, and the tension from earlier has morphed into a delicious blanket of want over them both that Qui-Gon feels he could drown in. Obi-Wan pushes at his shoulder and Qui-Gon pulls back, panting as he looks at Obi-Wan’s kiss swollen lips. His eyes follow Obi-Wan as he pushes Qui-Gon against the wall and swings a leg over to straddle his thighs. He draws Qui-Gon’s lips back to his with gentle fingers and delves into his mouth as he settles in his lap.

Qui-Gon is lost, breathless with want. Obi-Wan starts rocking in his lap, the hard outline of his cock rutting against Qui-Gon’s abdomen while his ass gives delicious friction to Qui-Gon’s own. He must admit that this wasn’t exactly what he pictured happening when he took that leap of faith, but he absolutely does not have any complaints with the way this is going.

Nails scratch over his scalp and tug on his hair, the sharp pain a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure, and Qui-Gon moans. He grips Obi-Wan’s hips like a lifeline, pulling him down as he ruts up against him, and he can feel his orgasm already building embarrassingly quickly.

But right now he doesn’t really have the wherewithal to care. Not when Obi-Wan is grinding in his lap, licking into his mouth, making such beautiful whimpers as he takes Qui-Gon apart so thoroughly with nothing but his lips and hands and friction. They’re still fully clothed for force’s sake, and Qui-Gon is absolutely going to come in his pants like a teenager.

He manages to drag himself away from those sinful lips to press biting kisses along Obi-Wan’s jaw. When he reaches the delicate skin of his neck, Obi-Wan lets out a moan that makes his cock twitch as it zings straight down his spine. He continues his exploration of the neck in front of him, making mark after mark against the pale skin as Obi-Wan pants above him. The purple and red bloom so starkly it settles the streak of possession that runs through Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan’s collarbones have taunted Qui-Gon for years and he takes great satisfaction in finally discovering what they taste like. He licks the sweat gathered in the hollow and nips at the skin before sealing hips lips around it and sucking _hard_. Obi-Wan bucks and moans, hands threading into Qui-Gon’s hair and holding him there.

He’s only ever imagined how Obi-Wan would sound under the cover of night, or in the expanse of his dreams. He’d thought _those_ noises were sinful, but they don’t hold a candle to the real thing.

When he pulls back to admire his handiwork, Obi-Wan is a mess; hair wild, eyes half-lidded and full of a lust Qui-Gon only ever dreamed of seeing, lips red and shiny where his tongue flicks out to wet them, clothes dishevelled. He looks like pure temptation and Qui-Gon wants to devour him.

“Kiss me,” Obi-Wan murmurs breathlessly, and Qui-Gon is utterly helpless to comply.

Obi-Wan’s hips gain an erratic rhythm the closer they edge to orgasm, and Qui-Gon has a sudden and irrational need to know what Obi-Wan looks and sounds like when he comes.

He pulls back and breathes, “Come, Obi-Wan,” and is enraptured as Obi-Wan’s hips stutter when he spills into his clothes, panting out moans as he shivers through the pleasure.

Through it all his eyes never leave Qui-Gon’s and seeing the raw want and pleasure in them is enough to send Qui-Gon over the edge as well. His head thumps against the wall, mouth open in a silent shout as Obi-Wan’s hips work him through it, gradually slowing until they’re both panting against each other as they come down.

Qui-Gon’s mind is blissfully blank as he basks in the afterglow. He peels his hands from Obi-Wan’s hips and hugs him to his chest, relishing in the contact before he inevitably has to give it up. Obi-Wan’s next mission is in just under two days and Qui-Gon wants to take advantage of the time he has left.

Obi-Wan laughs against Qui-Gon’s neck. “I guess we’re going to have to thank Anakin,”

Qui-Gon laughs too, nuzzling into Obi-Wan’s hair and breathing him in. “Careful, we don’t want his ego to become any bigger than it already is.”

“Pot, kettle, master,”

“Imp,” Qui-Gon growls and gently pinches Obi-Wan’s side. He flinches and squeals, laughing as he bats Qui-Gon’s hand away.

They’ll need to talk about what’s just happened, when Anakin finally deigns to let them out, but not right now. He’s eager to get to know the knight Obi-Wan has become, and even though he’ll be sad to see him depart for his next assignment, at least now he’ll have something to look forward to for when Obi-Wan returns.

He makes a note to get Anakin a big box of sweets.


End file.
